


First Contact! and Other Tales From the Final Frontier

by the_last_dillards



Series: Kinktober 2020 [28]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bottom Elim Garak, Cardassians with tails, Clothed Sex, Costumes, Kinktober, M/M, Massage, Panties, Post-Episode: s05e06 Trials and Tribble-ations, Riding, Skant Uniform, Slight Medical Kink, TOS era uniforms, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_last_dillards/pseuds/the_last_dillards
Summary: Julian gets inspired after the events of Trials and Tribble-ations.Kinktober Day 28: Clothes/Costumed
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Kinktober 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945888
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	First Contact! and Other Tales From the Final Frontier

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back!! I ended up burning out and took a two week break but now I am here and refreshed. Ideally, I hope to finish this series and put out another chapter of Glass Onion by the end of this month. A big thanks to everyone who sent asks and messages about the series during that interim, especially buyingthespacefarm <3 Feedback is what keeps me going.
> 
> Also, just a heads up that I am way, way behind on reading fics so if I normally read your stuff and haven't been lately, that's why.
> 
> This may or may not be a mess. I just like TOS uniform Julian x)

Garak tugged down on his skirt, trying to at least keep the illusion of modesty as he readied himself to visit the Enterprise's sickbay. Or that was, a holographic replica of the original Enterprise’s sickbay.

Once long ago, he had made himself a promise to never engage in any of Julian’s historical holoprograms. (To his understanding, the spy program was an extremely ahistorical approximation of reality and so did not count.) And Garak had very much intended to follow through on that. He had no interest in so-called vikings or cowboys or reliving ancient wars.

That promise had never anticipated the reality that Julian would come back unexpectedly late from a mission wearing a different uniform than he’d left in. Nor that said uniform would leave Julian looking somehow both more boyish and rakish than ever. State forbid the thought have ever crossed Garak’s mind but frankly, he'd looked downright _adorable._ There was absolutely no good reason for Julian to look so utterly endearing in such a dreadfully frumpy jumper. But the sad fact was, he did, and Garak had ravished him then and there.

That reaction had seemed to please Julian greatly, and soon after, apparently inspired himself by that trip, Julian had made a request.

The skant.

It was the single greatest continual source of perturbation and delight in Garak's life (except perhaps for the doctor himself). If he'd thought the modern version was something to marvel, he'd been thoroughly under prepared for what had apparently once passed as an official uniform.

For one thing, it was short. Shorter than short. So incredibly scandalously skimpy that it nearly wasn’t enough to cover the base of his tail. Garak might as well be flouncing about in his undergarments for all the good it did him. The slight draft that greeted him with every movement left a certain amount of certainty that he already was.

And then there was the neckline. Newer models featured collars that were high and modest, making the complete ensemble a tease to Cardassian eyes, simultaneously revealing and hiding too much. And in that way, Garak could appreciate the garment; the way it played games with his sensibilities. This one lacked any finesse, baring him so far down that even his collar bone was exposed.

But, he supposed, that was the point. Why else had Julian come back from his apparent adventure so eager to have Garak wear it?

Garak gave the skirt one final tug and deeming himself as ready as he’d ever be in such an outfit, strode into the sickbay, all purpose.

Julian was at a lab table, mixing together vials of what appeared to be colored water. He turned at the click of Garak’s boots, feigning surprise at the interruption.

And oh, did he look delectable. All done up in his little toy uniform, hair carefully combed and gelled into a neat sweep across his forehead. He looked almost innocent, like a little cadet ready to be torn apart. But then Julian flashed him a wide grin, and there was that charming devil again.

To Julian's credit, his gaze darted down only for the briefest of seconds before bouncing right back up to meet Garak's eyes. “Hello! I don’t believe we’ve met, Lieutenant...”

Garak allowed himself a small curtsy in greeting, just to tease. The movement flared and lifted what little skirt he had to Julian's peeking eyes. “Lieutenant Garak, thank you. No, I just transferred.”

“Ah, I see! Then you must be in for a physical.”

Garak bowed his head in confirmation.

“Please, have a seat on the biobed.” Julian gestured with a hand and waited for him to sit before fluttering away to grab his equipment. He continued, “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone of your species before.”

“I’d imagine not. I come from the far outer regions of space. The frontier, you could say,” Garak teased. “Thousands of light years away from the core of Federation. Why, you could say that I myself, having crossed such a vast distance of undiscovered country full of wild peoples to find civilization, am a new alien species ripe for the—”

Julian turned around, old style tricorder in hand, and quickly cut him off. “Alright, Lieutenant. I think I get the gist. I’m going to need to take some scans now if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, doctor. I submit to your expertise.”

Julian raised a brow. “If only all patients were as willing as you.”

“If only,” Garak demurred.

Julian looked like he was about to say something more to that but instead bit the comment back and began fiddling with the tricorder.

Garak watched and waited with increasing impatience. Why he was even bothering to try working it, Garak didn’t know. It wasn’t as if it could take proper readings. And it didn’t help his growing annoyance that Julian looked so damned fuckable as he did it. His lips had curved into a small pout and brows furrowed in concentration. He had no right to test Garak’s self control that way.

Perhaps sensing his irritability and looking nowhere closer to figuring the tricorder out, Julian finally said, “Um, looking healthy. I think. Good blood pressure,” before continuing to fiddle.

It was clear something needed to be done, or else Julian would waste the rest of their reservation trying to figure the antique design out.

Garak wriggled and shifted, spreading his legs and moving his tail so that it sat directly between them. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, sitting on his tail like this, but it did give the advantage of showing off its sensitive underside and drawing attention between his legs. 

He sighed dramatically to get Julian’s attention. The result was immediate.

Julian glanced up from the tricorder, and his eyes locked onto the desired target.

Garak felt a hot flash of arousal swelling his ridges at the attention as he tilted his hips to give him a better look at the official Starfleet panties he wore.

They were in the modern style unfortunately. The replicators only carried older versions for so long before they were deleted out of the database. This particular pair was red to match the skant, unlike the usual yellow variety he replicated when the need arose. He’d had to ‘borrow’ Sisko’s code to get access. Amazing how he, Sisko, and O’Brien were all the same size when it came to undergarments.

Julian froze like a regnar in a speeding skimmer's headlights, and Garak used the opportunity to smack the tricorder out of his hands with his tail, sending it skittering across the room.

“Oh dear! How clumsy of me! Let me get that for you.”

Garak hopped down from the biobed to go after it, leaving Julian to stare in bewilderment. 

The tricorder hadn’t gone too far. Just across the aisle of biobeds, and conveniently still in Julian’s line of sight for when Garak bent over to pick it up, not so subtly lifting his tail (and skirt) in invitation before taking his time to straighten back up.

Garak sashayed back to him.

“My sincerest apologies for that, doctor. My tail seems to have a mind of its own sometimes.”

Recovering himself, Julian gave him a playfully suspicious look and reached out a hand to take the tricorder from him. “Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind—”

“Are you quite alright, doctor?”

“I’m sorry?”

The hand dropped.

“You’re much warmer than you were a minute ago. I have limited thermoception,” he explained when Julian looked ready to question him. “Such drastic change is never a good sign in humanoids, I find.”

Julian looked confused now more than anything. They had planned on indulging in some light medical play while they got comfortable in their new costumes but this was new. Before now, they’d always kept to their roles.

Julian began cautiously, “Well, not necessarily, but—”

“Please, dear doctor, perhaps you should have a seat. I promise I’ll take _good_ care of you.”

He mentally urged Julian to play along. Maybe he had thought he could behave himself around Julian in that little uniform of his before but frankly, what he wanted to do to him now had no room for gloved hands and clinical touches.

Evidently, Julian decided to follow his lead. “Alright. Well, now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit under the weather. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Julian hopped up onto the end of the biobed in Garak's place.

Garak barely spared the tricorder's readings a glance. “This says here that you’re overworked, doctor.”

“Am I?” Julian looked amused.

Garak gave him a faux serious look.

“Direly so.” 

“Well, that can’t be very good. Tell me, what should I do?”

Garak snapped the tricorder lid shut. “The cure is obvious. You’re in need of a massage. Immediately.”

Julian looked all too entertained by this turn of events. “Oh, a massage! Well, of course. I’m the doctor. I should know.”

Garak set the tricorder off to the side and moved around the biobed to stand behind Julian, setting his hands on his shoulders and beginning to knead the lean muscle there.

Julian hummed in pleasure and leaned back into his touch.

“Did I ever get to mention, doctor, that I come from a planet full of professional masseuses?”

“Really? Are you sure you’re not just from Risa?”

Garak could hear the cheek in that voice. He gave him a pinch for it, making Julian grunt.

“Having the ability to perform a massage does not make one a professional.”

He finished up on his upper back with a series of firm rubs that left Julian rolling his shoulders and moaning in approval. Then he moved around to his front, taking hold of his shoulders and urging him to lay on his back. Julian obeyed, looking rather suspicious.

Garak gave a sharp smile down at him. “You wouldn’t believe how much stress can build up in the chest.”

“You better not be planning on tickling me,” Julian warned.

Human bodies were such strangely sensitive things. It was hardly Garak's fault if his touches occasionally tapped into one of their many nonsensical reflexes.

“No promises.”

Once Julian was properly supine, Garak put a knee on the bed and threw his other leg over to straddle his hips. It was a testament to how exile had worn him down that getting up took far more effort than it should have. Finally, he settled himself, making sure the bulk of his weight ended up over the hard outline in Julian's slacks.

Julian shifted, looking a bit more flustered now. “Getting rather cozy for a masseuse, aren't you?”

“How else am I to reach?” He gyrated his hips ever so slightly and earned himself a glare.

Forcing down a smirk, Garak leaned in to knead at Julian's chest. There wasn’t much to work with in the way of muscle or breast—Julian seemed at times to be more stick than man—but that was alright. He could still make good excuse to accidentally brush the peaks under his shirt and let his fingers wander down his sides just enough to make him squirm. Though of course, that could just be due to the shifting of his hips that he made a point to tease with.

Julian, for his part, held his composure well. There was barely a whimper as Garak pressed the palms of his hands onto his pectorals, rubbing in rhythmic circles. If Julian needed to curl his lips inward and bite at them to maintain his facade, then it was certainly forgivable. Especially when the expression was complemented with tousled hair and a long column of neck stretched out before him, unblemished and unmarked. The urge to latch down onto it and bite had Garak salivating.

Later, he told himself. There would be time for that later. Instead, he doubled down on giving Julian a thorough petting, tail twitching with the effort of restraint. 

By now, Garak's panties were thoroughly soaked. So much so that he wouldn't be surprised if the front of Julian's trousers were sporting the stain. He throbbed and ached on the inside, Julian's own sweet prUt so close and yet so far. A part of him wanted to prolong the sweet torture. To keep Julian here under him and ruin him until he came in his trousers and then take his own pleasure from those agile lips and tongue. 

But Garak was a realist, and he knew that no matter how he might try to hold back, he would soon evert regardless. And so, Garak let it, giving a wanton moan for Julian's benefit as it slid out into the tight casing of the panties.

Julian's breath caught and his heaving chest froze with a choked gasp before he let it out with a whimper.

They were intimately close. Pressed together through mere layers of clothes, shapes hard and hot.

Garak sat up straight, plastering on a shocked look as if just noticing that Julian was aroused for the first time. He removed his hands from Julian's chest and pressed one over his own barely concealed sternum.

“Oh my! It seems you’re rather tense down here as well.”

He rolled his hips to draw attention to the problem spot, letting himself luxuriate in the stimulation.

"Quite the knot you've got down there, doctor."

“Garak,” Julian whimpered.

“Now, now. I know just the cure for your ailment.”

He lifted himself up just enough to undo Julian’s trousers, pulling his cock through the gap and using two fingers to pull his panties aside. There was no need for preparation. Garak was already swollen open and dripping for it, all too easy to sink down onto his length.

Julian nearly jackknifed as the cockhead slipped in, gasping out a sharp "Oh!" and clutching at the edges of the biobed with a white knuckle grip.

Garak didn't pay him any mind and took his due until he was filled and firmly seated on his hips again. He allowed himself a sigh of relief. The shape might be odd for a Cardassian, but it was deeply satisfying nonetheless. That mammalian blood coursing through it made it brilliantly hot, nudging in to warm his most intimate of insides.

Garak gave a few experimental hip rolls. As much as he was a proponent of taking one's time and taking full pleasure out of a situation, he found that it wasn't quite the most comfortable of positions to endure for long. It was the boots. They were high and stiff, not wanting to bend with his movements and creating a strain on his ankles.

It also had the unfortunate effect of throwing his balance off. The biobed was only so wide and if Julian got rather too enthusiastic trying to thrust up into him as he sometimes did, then it would be all to easy for a rider to be knocked off. Garak compensated by anchoring his hands on Julian's stomach. Then after a moment of consideration, he rucked the shirt up to put them directly onto that soft, fuzzy belly and let his claws drag against the flesh. Now, not only would his balance be improved but if he fell, then he'd be taking the doctor with him.

Satisfied, Garak rocked his hips, building up into a bouncing momentum that had Julian crying out. In his excitement, his tail swished wildly side-to-side, knocking several items off a nearby table. Garak didn't bother trying to suppress it. It wasn't as if any damage done to the room would remain past their holosuite time.

And why should he be made to contain his pleasure when the sight before him was so invigorating?

Julian was an expressive man at the best of times. In bed, the habit was only heightened. He looked like a man dying, face scrunched, eyes out of focus, and breaths ragged. If Garak hadn't been so affected by his own arousal, the sight would be comical. Ridiculous even.

But as it was, his brain had been addled with hormones since long before he'd stepped foot in the room. The fact that he'd even agreed to this scenario spoke volumes on just how far gone his mind was. It was that damned uniform that had done it. Continued to do it, even. 

There was no logical reason why. It wasn't particularly revealing and neither was it form fitting. And while blue was indeed a striking color to his people, the shade was wrong. He should be appalled by the ensemble and the oafish air it gave the doctor. And yet _something_ in it marked Julian as more enthralling than ever.

It brought ideas to mind. Not just of what he might like to do to Julian in it, but fantasies of what it would've been like had they both lived in a century past. Back when the Federation and Cardassia were known to each other only through word of mouth—traders who brought goods and stories from distant lands—and old broadcast signals, many decades out of date. What it would be like to be that first contact. Perhaps a Cardassian patrol ship coming across one of these exploration vessels as it encroached on Cardassian territory. 

They'd open a communications channel, and the Federation ship would send their warm greetings even as the small patrol ship bluffed out warnings. The Cardassians would know better than to think they could win a fight against such a behemoth of a vessel so they'd play along, send over a few of their own to make nice and introduce themselves. Garak would be one of these perhaps. It wasn't uncommon for the Obsidian Order to send agents undercover on military ships, especially if a Gul was under investigation.

Once they'd beamed aboard, what curious creatures they'd find! And creatures filled with curiosity in turn, naive in their pursuit of knowledge and friendship. The mental imagery of a pack of humans in their useless and brightly colored uniforms placed against the dark, rigid Cardassian armor that had been regulation for longer than the Federation's existence amused him greatly.

But, of course, before meeting, they would need to be checked for foreign diseases. It wouldn't do for them to get their new friends sick. And who better than such a brilliant doctor as Julian Bashir to do so?

Garak couldn't imagine the draw towards him would be any less than it had been when he'd first laid eyes on the doctor on Deep Space Nine. A deeply erotic, visceral feeling. A desire to entwine that body with his own in any way possible. But now paired with a rapacious need to ravish such a primmed creature in a silly excuse for a uniform. To unravel him into pure debauchery.

And in turn, Julian would be excitable and inquisitive. Filled with an insatiable lust for knowledge that left him very reciprocating to any wily advances from alien visitors.

That was how they'd gotten to the here and now. 

Why Garak was in a skant in this scenario was a non issue. While he'd prefer to imagine himself in the undergarments of a military uniform in its place, he couldn't very well ignore the truth of the matter when Julian had pried his hands off the biobed edge and reached up to sneak them under Garak's skirt, one resting on his rump and the other wrapping around his prUt. He rumbled in pleasure.

It was a sad fact that as pleasurable as their encounter might be, in this scenario such an exploratory ship could never be allowed to return home. The first contact meeting would only be a ruse to take control of the ship and incapacitate the crew before bringing them all back for study. The vessel would be methodically taken apart piece by piece and studied to better understand the threat's technological capabilities while the Federationers would be interrogated for information before being put down and dissected.

It's what had happened in the reality, Garak knew. Any first contact with such a dangerous entity would need to be on Cardassian terms with as much knowledge as possible collected ahead of time for inevitable conflicts of interest.

Though...perhaps Julian's fate needn't be tragedy. There were many long term uses for a doctor, especially when humans were a dime a dozen among the crew. All that knowledge he contained couldn't be learned by way of interrogation alone. No, it would take years of questions, explanations, and demonstrations. And such an asset would need a handler. Someone who could be patient and would know all the right buttons to press to ensure full cooperation. It wouldn't be an ideal fate for dear Julian, perhaps, but even in his fantasies, Garak was a realist. And if it tickled some other long held fantasies of bringing Julian back with him to Cardassia, then that was merely a boon.

Garak's attention was brought back to more immediate fancies by a loud moan. He drew his gaze down to where Julian clutched tight to his body, looking utterly wrecked.

"Garak," Julian panted, "I'm not sure I can hold back much longer."

His cock twitched hot inside of him.

Garak smiled indulgently. "Then don't."

He punctuated the statement by tightening the muscles lining the inside of his ajan around him. Julian's eyes rolled back into his head as his body tensed, grip on Garak's prut nearly painful as he came all at once.

Garak rode him through it in furious search for his own end. Once it became clear that Julian was going to be utterly useless for the foreseeable future, he knocked his hands off and rucked his skirt up higher, twisting his hand around his irllun. It didn't take long. Between the stimulation on his prUt, wetness deep inside, and delicious imagery before him of Julian—wearing his most idiotic face, panting, and blue shirt bunched up just under his ribs to reveal a vulnerable underbelly—succumbing to the rains was beyond his control.

Garak let them take him. 

A hot line of semen splashed up Julian's belly, completing the look of a young officer in ruin.

He flopped forward, feeling boneless after so much exertion. It was all he could do not to fall off the side. A gentle hand lifted up to card through his hair and Garak allowed it, burying his face in Julian's sweaty neck to breathe in the sweet pheromones there. He tried not to think about the wetness seeping through the front of his uniform.

The sound of Julian's voice seemed absurdly loud beneath his ear. "Not that I'm complaining, but that wasn't what we had planned."

Garak huffed, wiggling his hips to help Julian's softened cock slip out and let his own prUt retract back in.

"My apologies for taking away your chance to pretend you'd never heard of internal genitalia on a humanoid before."

Julian gave him a playful look. "You know, Elim, speaking of—"

He was interrupted by voices, drifting in from the hallway.

“I told you, Jim. The rest of the crew has to do it and so do you.”

Garak tensed and scrambled to stand but by the time he managed to sit up, it was already too late. Two strangers in the old style uniform had entered the sickbay.

“Bones, surely— What’s going on in here?” The one in gold had spotted them first, and his companion in blue looked ready to pop a gasket at the sight of two officers clearly post-coital on a biobed.

Julian propped himself up on his elbows. “Computer, freeze program! Delete all characters.”

The two figures froze in place and then shimmered out of existence.

Garak was aghast. He looked down at Julian and thwacked his tail down hard behind him to emphasize his displeasure. "You didn't turn off the characters?!"

It didn't matter that the onlookers would've been holographic. The thought that they could've been walked in on at any time, catching Garak in such a compromising position, was distressing to say the least.

"I could've sworn I did."

Garak had a sharp retort at the ready for _that_ but held it back. One needed to pick and choose their fights wisely, flirtatious or not. He climbed down off of the bed, getting the full uncomfortable effect of the damp patches on his skant and panties.

"Next time we do this, I'll be double checking the program settings before we begin," Garak informed him.

"I suppose I can't fault you for that."

Julian looked a bit sheepish as he followed suit, pulling out their bag of extra clothing from a corner. 

Garak watched him tug the soiled shirt over his head and strip down to his knickers with appraising eyes. "And I've had some ideas for how we might modify the program's story mode. Perhaps a first contact scenario."

**Author's Note:**

> My personal rule is that any Garak with a skirt is a Garak with a tail. That's just how it is.
> 
> Kudos and comments are love!


End file.
